White
by Blancwene
Summary: A collection of 11 Éowyn drabbles, detailing little moments in her life from Théoden’s sickness up to her wedding.
1. Silent

**AN:** Lack of sleep & listening to Tori Amos CDs leads to . . . 11 Éowyn drabbles. Aragorn, Faramir, and other men make appearances, but I wanted to this mostly focus on Éowyn – and, for most of this, her reasoning behind her white dress. Or something like that. Thanks for clicking!

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**White**

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**Silent**

She sat behind the throne, a nursemaid to her Uncle and a witness to the corruption within the Riddermark. While Wormtongue and his absent master slowly destroyed the very foundation of her people, she watched in silence.

At first, she had dreamt up ways to save her homeland, to alert the Marshals and drive this poisonous influence from Meduseld. But her brother and cousin could not spare a moment to listen to her schemes; consumed in the affairs of the East and Westfolds, they smiled and misunderstood.

So she shut her lips, damming the stream of words from her eager tongue. She would never be heard, so she became voiceless, another fair statue in a dying house.


	2. Frozen

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**White**

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**Frozen**

It began as an act of rebellion against all the signs of decay within the Golden Hall. Darkness veiled the bright tapestries from older times; dust grew upon the elaborate carvings created for long-dead kings. An air of neglect fell upon the house of her ancestors.

But she refused to accept that pervading sense of hopelessness. Valor and renown awaited beyond the shadowed walls of her prison – and as she put on her white dress each morn, she regarded it as a beacon for her rescuer. She would maintain the purity of her dreams even under this growing gloom.


	3. Years Go By

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**White**

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**Years Go By**

Time. Measured in weeks, then months, then years, as the shadow gained hold on the House of Eorl. Her original white gown was replaced by another, and then another – yet still her tacit rebellion continued against the corruption within Edoras.

Men came and went from the Hall, familiar faces and strangers – but not her savior. She shone out like a cold winter on a barren land. Her beauty blossomed to ignorant eyes. Few noticed her and none acknowledged her; she became as lifeless as one of the ancient pillars rising tall before the throne.

And still she waited for the coming of spring.


	4. Spark

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**White**

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**Spark**

His eyes were keen and grey, filled with compassionate strength. The Elf was fairer and the Wizard wiser – but there was something about the Man that captured her gaze and forced her attention away from the scene before her.

He was dressed like a Ranger from the North, his garb stained and weathered; yet he spoke like one from a noble house. And there was something within his face that suggested a strong inner dignity.

Those grey eyes met her own, taking in the cold gleam of her attire and the cool pity in her stare. And for the first time in years, she felt understood.


	5. Not a Fairytale

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**White**

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**Not a Fairytale**

In her dreams, she had pictured herself a Queen, held with love in the hearts of her people. She saw herself standing by his side proudly, reveling in the glory of shared deeds.

She was a shieldmaiden, a warrior Queen, riding to battle with her kinsman and her King – her love. She was the heroine of songs, of poems, and of great tales in the legends of Gondor and Rohan.

But in the harsh glare of daylight her fantasies faded away like fog on the plains, revealed to be airy whimsies and outright lies.

He rode away towards the Dimholt Road with the rest of the Grey Company, leaving behind a girl and the shambles of a fairytale.


	6. Wasteland

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**White**

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**Wasteland**

Farewell. First Aragorn, then Théoden – they were all deserting her to a coward's fate. They called her a Lady of Rohan, yet they treated her like a helpless babe, one who needed protection from others.

She watched her Uncle walk away towards the main camp. The men of the Riddermark were riding off to their doom, for who could prevail against the shadow of despair? Her white dress had not brought salvation, but rejection and death – a beacon of woe and false hopes.

But she would not abandon her King. Her rebellion against the darkness ended, she would follow him to the very heart of the shadow.


	7. Nightfall

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**Nightfall**

She had never worn a full suit of chain mail for such a long period of time. Heavy, bulky, and constricting, it slowly sapped her strength. But it was necessary. On the Pelennor fields, her white dress would have been a death warrant, attracting the enemy's arrows and offering no protection from the missiles of reality.

Merry tightened his arms around her waist as they rode towards war, his heart beating against her back. She could sense his fear, so strong it was a tangible force – yet she felt no fear herself.

She would fight for her Uncle and her brother – men she loved and wished to be. Her night had fallen.


	8. Long Way Home

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**Long Way Home**

A murky world of ambiguities lurked before her, phantoms and shades appearing at her every step. She wandered between life and death, waiting for healing hands to rescue her from these nightmarish thoughts. She found no light, no escape, only the realization that Fate had led her to this endless abyss from which she could not return.

Her misery had taken her countless leagues from Edoras, and now only a breath separated her from the spirits of her kinsmen.

She stumbled further into shadow, unsure of whether she headed towards hope or despair – only knowing that she was a long way from home.


	9. Rebirth

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**Rebirth**

Something brushed against her brow – rough and yet gentle. It could not be another dream, for this touch was surprisingly warm. She breathed deeply, fighting her way out of the shadows.

The touch disappeared, replaced by a sharp wind, clean and crisp and scentless. It swept the darkness away, spreading the warmth from her brow to the rest of her body. And as the nightmares fled, she saw a line of tall mountains, with stars glistening in the canopy above – and beyond that, silver seas and a vast green shore.

Then she stepped into a beam of light, and found herself whole again.


	10. Sweet Dreams

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**Sweet Dreams**

On the walls of the Houses of Healing, she watched him silently out of the corner of her vision. He leaned forward casually, surveying the City below with a clear gaze and a faint smile. His dark hair – so unlike that of her people – ruffled in the wind as she edged closer.

It was strange, the shifts that her life had taken, from yearning to despair to . . . love? Or was everything she felt just another childish dream, sweet but ephemeral?

She turned to meet his stare, his eyes filled with a questioning look. Answering him with a smile, she set her doubts aside. If this was a dream, then it was a very sweet one indeed.


	11. No Regrets

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**No Regrets**

She stood before the throne, clothed in a new gown of white – lacy and silken, more elaborate than anything she had ever worn. A frosted world spun before her, twisted by her nervous mind into a whirlwind of sights and sounds.

Yet she was not alone. Her hopes had been fulfilled by a man who offered her his love, not merely his pity. He was her true redeemer; a scholar and a dreamer, not a King. Glancing up, she saw him standing beside her, her joy reflected in his deep grey eyes.

He murmured a few soft words, then stepped in front of her and lifted her veil.

"Any last thoughts?"

She shook her head. "No. No regrets."

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FIN

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End file.
